PostScript
by FluffDucklings
Summary: After the Second War, the Ministry of Magic upped its laws and restrictions and Matthew Williams is about to experience firsthand the effects the war the Order worked so hard to stop. Rated T.


I am totally enamoured with the idea of Werewolf ostracism. It makes sense that society as a whole would not want to deal with a "sub-human" who could turn another person into a "menace" with just a bite one night a month. And just like in today's society, we have shunned certain types of people for doing or being something (whether in their control or not), sending them to prison and out of the way or driven them into the depths of some remote swamp land. It's not so farfetched an idea.

I may be a very open-minded person who accepts a person if they are willing to be accepted, but I have never done anything other than right lowly fan fiction spreading word (that most likely doesn't even leave the webpage much less the internet) of random topics of abuse and such. And thought they may not be very well versed, I do take at least some pride in writing them, as any writer should be proud of their works.

I don't own Harry Potter or Hetalia or anything affiliated with it.

Now, without further ado, I present you a special works of werewolf!Matthew and the turmoil he must face caused by another's hand.

I hope you enjoy~!

* * *

Matthew Williams was born in the summer of 1994. He was a 90s child through and through, even though he grew up in the so different world of wizards.

He lived in a Muggle community with his wizard father and witch mother. They were very talented people who graduated at the tops of their class at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; two of the schools finest Ravenclaws.

After passing their N.E.W.T. exams and procuring well-paying jobs at the Ministry of Magic and St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, the two decided to marry and soon after, Matthew was born.

The magical world was finally recuperating after the Second War in which the famous Harry Potter had battled to the death with Voldemort. He emerged victorious and the Ministry was re-established with honest, non-Death Eater associates.

The casualties of the war were plenty and all were given proper send offs, even those of the Dark Creatures people so feared to this day. Centaurs and giants and even a werewolf were given a funeral fit for any fully-human wizard.

But though the world was returning to a state of relative peace, not everything changed for the better. Laws were passed and things became more strict, security tighter and not forgiving. And to the old Order's dismay, restrictions against Dark Creatures were set into motion.

Giants were still restricted to the mountains and valleys away from humans, Muggle or Wizard. Vampires were to be marked and registered with regular checks to the Ministry. And werewolves were marked as well as shunned from society all together, with not so much as a care on where they went so long as they were outside a certain parameter of any fully-human community.

But those with full-blood were living well in their new society. And Matthew was a perfect example of a new generation of wizards in a peaceful era.

He lived in a nice flat-level house outside of Sussex. His mother kept it spic and span through magical means and his father owned a very nice Ministry car (mostly to keep appearances for the Muggles). There is an Apparation point in the garden for travelling and their fireplace is connected to the Floo system.

In the sitting room, there is a small Muggle television that Matthew watches sometimes. It plays so many different things and he is fascinated that Muggles were able to create such a thing. There is a large bookshelf filled with Muggle and Wizarding books alike: from children's stories to encyclopaedias. In the backyard in the garden, gnomes roam around and the Williams' cat tried to nip their sharp fingers when they get too close. And in the kitchen, the dishes move with the wave of Mrs. William's wand.

Life was quiet and comfortable. Sometimes Matthew would invite the neighboring Muggle children over for tea and cookies and they would play as Mrs. Williams poured milk and tea by hand, her wand stashed away in the breadbox. And other times Matthew would visit their houses and left his parents to themselves for a few hours reprieve.

All in all, the Williams had a very nice, cushy life. And it remained that way up until Matthew's sixth birthday, when everything literally went to complete and utter hell.

-o-0-o-

It was the beginning of summer so both parents had a few weeks' vacation to spend with their son before they would send him off to visit his uncle and cousin.

Foster Williams came home his first night sloshed and wobbly. Rose took him to bed and they all sat down to breakfast the next morning.

The rest of the few weeks were very nice for Matthew. His father unearthed his Muggle drivers' license and took his family to the ocean where Matthew played in the tide pools with his mother while she made the starfish and other tidal fish change colour and make random noises. Afterwards, they stopped at a shoreline shop and ate fish and chips wrapped in old newspaper.

That night, the small family slept in the sitting room; a makeshift tent fashioned out of sheets and pillows and charmed to hang over their heads. Matthew slept soundly between them.

But, in the middle of the night, Matthew awoke to a full bladder and dashed off to the bathroom, wiping his bleary eyes along the way. After, he washed his hands and put his lips to the faucet to drink, he crept back to the tent and his parents.

Along his way, though, Matthew's eye caught a twinkling in the garden. Two amber coloured orbs glowed in the rose bushes outside along the fence line. It was hard to make out because of the shining full moon, but Matthew could still see them. They pierced his own eyes and made his stomach clench as if the lights were watching him.

Not wanting to come off as a baby, Matthew set towards the window to get a better look and conquer his childish fear of monsters in the garden. He _was_ turning seven in a month's time and he thought it about time to start acting like it.

Pushing up the window, Matthew popped his head out and leaned over the sill. Below him hydrangea flowers were bloomed and would catch him should he fall through.

Across the garden, the lights disappeared, but they returned a moment later beside the oak tree a little closer to the window Matthew was looking out of. They were accompanied by a large shadow.

Now with his heart thumping rapidly at the prospect of there actually being a monster, Matthew was frozen, too scared and not caring that he was.

A cloud passed over the large moon, the shadow disappearing and the two golden orbs becoming brighter.

They got closer and closer in the darkness, but Matthew couldn't move. He could only watch as the two orbs greeted pearly white teeth, sharp, sharp fangs.

A low growl came from them and for an instant Matthew remembered one of his Muggle story books about a wolf and a little girl with a red cap.

And then the orbs – eyes, Matthew finally understood – and fangs leapt at him and he could feel the worst kind of pain across his face, as if it had been split open. Then he could feel teeth biting his arm and he let out a terrible, blood curdling scream.

In an instant, his mother and father were awake to find their dear Matthew half dragged out a window with a horrible, twisted monster feasting on his arm.

Foster scrambled for his wand, which he thankfully never kept far from himself, and cast a shielding charm to rebound the beast. Rose pulled Matthew back through the window as her husband shouted hexes and curses at the animal.

Matthew cried now, loud, painful sobs as blood flooded from his face and across his eyes and into his mouth. His arm was broken, muscles and sinews and tendons threaded. He felt so much pain and he begged his Mama to make it stop, please make it stop!

Rose tended the wounds the best she could, not trusting her unsteady hand to properly fix her son. She shouted to Foster that she was flooing to St. Mungo's and to come when he was done and then she picked up Matthew and hurriedly threw in a handful of floo powder and shouted "St. Mungo's" and a moment later she was clambering out of the fireplace, begging a Medi-Witch to check her son.

Not ten minutes later, Foster arrived and was ushered into the Magical Bites ward to his wife and son. He had a grim expression on his pale face. A bit of blood was splashed on his cuffs and he looked as if he would be sick.

He found Rose hovering over Matthew as he slept. She told him Healer Chang had fixed him up as best she could, but he was still in a bit of pain. On the bedside table beside him, Matthew had a line of potions he would take once he woke up.

Foster nodded slowly, not wanting to recount to his wife the monster that had attacked their son. But, he had to. She had to know.

Before he could open his mouth though, Rose glanced at him with pursed lips. "Healer Chang told me, Foster. I know."

The two parents watched over their son as he trembled in his sleep, wincing with pain and trying to escape his nightmare.


End file.
